Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. He left his companion in the midst of a glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess as she moved from one group to join another. Twenty guineas, mind. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. It filled her with indefinable fear. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. This moment couldn’t be better until the next moment comes.
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